


Taichi Nanao's Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Crush to Kiss You: Volume 2

by Esurisne



Series: Taichi Nanao's Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Crush to Kiss You [2]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Crushes, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Practice Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esurisne/pseuds/Esurisne
Summary: Oh, he’d done his kiss in rehearsal. It was barely a peck. It didn’t require the hoops that Taichi was leaping through here with Omi, except that it kind of did, at least in his head. And wasn’t that reason enough to return to their room with this misery upon his shoulders, desperate and needing a savior?
Relationships: Fushimi Omi/Nanao Taichi
Series: Taichi Nanao's Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Crush to Kiss You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579828
Comments: 16
Kudos: 162





	Taichi Nanao's Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Crush to Kiss You: Volume 2

“They hated it!” Taichi announced, throwing his arms in the air. He wailed the rest up towards the heavens: “It looked all wrong, they said! Stiff! _Unreal!_ ” 

Of course, it wasn’t that Taichi wanted to be directing his agony to the ceiling. Especially since that agony was put-upon and fashioned out of nothing. Oh, he’d done his kiss in rehearsal. It was barely a peck. It didn’t require the hoops that Taichi was leaping through here with Omi, except that it kind of did, at least in his head.

And wasn’t that reason enough to return to their room with this misery upon his shoulders, desperate and needing a savior? 

(Who better than Omi, who had already swooped in and rescued him the once, the twice, the—)

“Taichi?” Omi said, sitting up from his bed.

“They _hated it_ ,” Taichi repeated, covering his eyes.

He peeked between his fingers. Omi was frowning. Taichi frowned too.

“They’re asking for a lot from a guest, aren’t they?” Omi mused.

Taichi hiccuped to hide a nervous laugh. “Yeah! Right?” Dragging his hands down his face, he looked at Omi, beseeching. “What do I do?” 

Well, Taichi knew very well what he wanted to do, but that required the green light from Omi, too, so with any luck… 

Omi gestured him over and Taichi trotted towards him like that beckoning might as well have been a few tugs of a leash. Omi put a hand on Taichi’s waist, another taking Taichi’s hand to pull him closer. Omi widened his knees for Taichi to stand between his legs, and already this was closer than they’d been the last time. He thought of Omi’s thigh flexing, and then he thought something that sounded an awful lot like a dial-up noise in his head. 

“Hey,” Omi said gently. It was then that Taichi realized he was as stiff as a corpse. Omi slid his hand up Taichi’s side and down again, fingers light until they squeezed at his waist, slowly easing him closer. “Taichi?” 

Taichi short-circuited with a shiver, then snapped his arms out to reciprocate, both hands going to rest on Omi’s broad shoulders. For balance. Totally not to feel out the way his muscles shifted. “Yeah, yeah!” Taichi said hastily. “Sorry, I’m zoning out so bad! Guess I’m, um – distracted.” 

Omi smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other as he looked up at Taichi. “Can’t have that, can we.” Something gleamed in Omi’s eye, and he moved farther back onto the bed, away from Taichi. “You wanted to practice, didn’t you? I don’t want anyone to think you’re bad at it.”

Taichi’s heart fluttered wildly in his chest as he tried to lean after him. His grip on Omi’s shoulders tightened. “Omi…” 

“It reflects poorly on the teacher.” Omi smiled wider, then lifted his hand from Taichi’s wrist to tap at his own lips. “Now, come here.” 

And Taichi did, both because it would be the highest form of self-sabotage _not_ to, and because Omi was smiling up at him in a way Taichi really, really couldn’t deny. His arms went farther behind Omi’s head as Omi straightened up to meet him halfway. For a second, one _meager_ second, they were nose-to-nose, Taichi’s eyes wide and cheeks hot, Omi’s soft breath against his lips.

But only for a second. Taichi pressed forward and kissed Omi eagerly, doubly so when Omi slipped his hand into Taichi’s hair, up along his nape, gripping the short tufts there for leverage – he tugged Taichi into him, the kiss breaking with Taichi’s small gasp.

Taichi caught himself with his knee against the bed, pushing into Omi’s space completely, their noses bumping together before he apologized hastily and kissed him again, and again, his arms wrapped soundly around Omi, his lungs burning as their lips moved together. Taichi darted his tongue out to taste and Omi pulled back for one terrible, awful pause.

Taichi dug fingers into Omi’s back, willing him not to retreat as his panicked pulse lit up faster. “Sorr–”

“No, it’s okay,” Omi murmured. Taichi’s throat closed around the stumbling excuse. “Here.” 

Omi slid his hand from Taichi’s nape to his cheek, his thumb pressing against the line of Taichi’s jaw to angle his chin just so; when Taichi sucked in a breath at it, Omi dipped forward and resumed their kissing, catching him with his lips still parted. This time, he felt the slick hint of Omi’s tongue tracing his lower lip. His eyes fell shut, practically on reflex.

It was all Taichi could do to stifle head to toe shivers, the heavy heat settling in the bottom of his stomach. One of them made a sound – some soft, muffled noise that Taichi refused to acknowledge came from him – and then Omi was licking into his mouth, his tongue sliding against Taichi’s. Taichi felt like a cup of water being poured out, the way he melted against Omi in an instant, totally liquid, held up only by those great, _great_ arms of his, his breaths sharp as he tried to keep up.

The world tilted, and then fell, and Omi bounced against the mattress as his back hit the bed, Taichi perched over him. His hands were heavy and warm on Taichi’s waist, his lips pink and wet and _smiling_ and eyes half-lidded, brows a little knitted together in question. Taichi panted, feeling like someone had set him on fire then immediately amending the thought: if he was on fire, it wouldn’t be nearly this good.

“I think you’ve got the hang of it if you want to stop,” Omi said slowly, which was just the _worst_ thing, so much so that Taichi swiftly planted his hand on Omi’s chest.

“ _No_ ,” Taichi breathed, heart beating so fast that he could feel it in his fingertips. His cheeks flashed hotter still when Omi lifted a hand off of him to curl his fingers around Taichi’s wrist, but he didn’t try to take his hand away. Taichi wondered if Omi could feel his mile-a-minute pulse too. “No, no! I want to – I mean, I need more practice. Don’t you think?” 

The words carried upwards at the end, not like pleading, but like _persuading._ Taichi licked his lips reflexively, and being able to be this close, to see the way Omi’s eyes flicked down to his mouth to follow his tongue, oh – 

The world tilted again but this time when Taichi blinked, Omi was leaning over _him_ , blocking the light of their room and looking – well, looking _really_ good – and Taichi strained to grab at him, but he couldn’t, which he found after a glance upwards was because Omi had both of his wrists pinned to the bed.

Taichi went limp and whimpered. And because Omi was a good person, the best person Taichi had ever met, he didn’t point it out. If anything, Omi only smiled a little more at it.

“I don’t think you need any more practice,” Omi said, pointed this time.

The shock of disappointment nearly ate Taichi alive, and he dissolved into embarrassed, unsure laughter. “Wh…what do you mean?” he asked, grinning helplessly. “Did I get that good that quickly, or…? I don’t feel confident just yet…” 

Omi’s gaze bearing down on Taichi was almost as distracting as the weight of his body on top of him, and Taichi absolutely refused to move his hips. Not even a little bit. He channelled a statue from the abdomen down. Omi didn’t say anything at all, not yet. 

So Taichi flexed his fingers to test Omi’s hold – secure, and unyielding. Taichi expected to be disdainful at it, but instead he found himself altogether approving. Or he would be, if Omi wasn’t telling him they weren’t going to be having another kiss session. Had he been that good? Or, worse. Had Taichi been _that bad?_ Maybe Omi couldn’t stomach it. Maybe this was Omi’s as ever kind way of saying Taichi was so awful that he could no longer handle hiding how much _he_ didn’t want to be kissing him – 

“Taichi.”

Taichi’s thoughts screeched to a halt with the low, intent way Omi said his name. Omi leaned down until they were close enough to kiss again, but he stalled Taichi by rubbing his thumbs against his wrists. Taichi made a small, ‘mm- _hmm_?’ sound, his eyes wide and lips half-parted, all too willing.

“If you want to kiss me,” Omi went on, his voice hardly a breath. “You only have to ask.”

Taichi froze, shame flooding through him like a wave. Of course Omi knew that this wasn’t strictly necessary. He probably knew the whole time. Hadn’t Omi always known him, seen through him like this? How obvious had he been with how much he wanted him? 

Taichi opened his mouth, ready with an apology, the start of mortified tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he stopped suddenly when Omi pressed his lips to the tip of his nose.

“What,” Taichi managed, strangled. “Why—” 

Omi smiled down at him, then released his hands (disappointment, _again_ ) and ruffled Taichi’s hair once. Taichi blinked, stunned into silence.

“Relax,” Omi said, and was that was fondness still in his voice? “I mean it. Just ask, without all the excuses.”

Taichi stared at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry for teasing you—”

Taichi only paid half-attention to the words since he was already surging upwards, gripping the front of Omi’s shirt and yanking him down to meet him.

Omi let him, but not before getting the word _cute_ out between their mouths.

**Author's Note:**

> Bad dog x2


End file.
